A Little Less than Impossible
by Lady of Misrule
Summary: There are defining moments in every relationships. Some survive the test of it, some don't. For Ward and Simmions it seemed impossible to survive, impossible to know, impossible to hope even. Except for one thing. (Ward/Simmions; Biospecialist)


**Chapter - One**

"Don't do this Ward. _Don't_."

The soft lilt in her voice, that aching look in her eyes as she implored him nearly made him break.

Years of training flashed before his eyes. Years of torture that had preceded them.

They didn't understand.

It wasn't just about Garrett. It wasn't just about Hydra. It was about transparency.

With Hydra, one at the least knew which monster they were. Which terror.

With SHIELD, it was _all_ a lie.

All of it.

And all of it was done under the guise of a better tomorrow, a safer today.

The lies had burned through him for years. For years he had watched sweet-talking soothsayers explain away 'complications' justify terror and turn around to bow down and '_Hail Hydra'_ for money.

The color of the human soul, Ward soon learned, was green.

And then, mere months away from Hydra's ascension, he'd met _her_.

If he closed his eyes, he could still feel her hands on his face as she went on tip-toe to swap his mouth with that infernal Q-tip.

He could see the soft lock of hair that fell over her eyes as she talked non-stop about everything on earth, and beyond.

He could see, her barely kept in check laughter, as he'd postured with the 'night-night-gun', just to see her laugh.

He saw that moment of helpless rage when he realized she was stuck in a lab fighting a demon he couldn't even _see_.

He saw that heart-stopping moment of ice cold fear slide down his spine, when he realized she was going to jump. When she did.

He saw her guilt ridden face as she confessed to fibbing about the night-night gun with all the gravity of having single handedly destroyed a planet.

He could see, the faint twitch of her nose when she disapproved of him ripping open one of her prized stitches.

Ward, may not believe in a higher power, or in any form of truth, but that one full-lipped woman made them all so tempting.

How often had he wished, he could just drag her into his arms and forget everything.

His mission had been to compromise Coulson's entire team.

Coulson with trust.

The Cavalry with sex.

Skye with salvation.

Fitz with courage.

And her.

It would have been so easy. Simply shutting her up with a kiss, when she'd sassed him back for any number of things.

But he couldn't.

He may not be able to control the current that ran between them every time he ended up ten feet from her, but he could control this.

He would not build her trust.

Not even when she'd flustered herself over that idiotic half robot, or when Agent Trippy began deliver whatever idiotic drivel it was he delivered.

Not when she'd been trembling in his arms, in the middle of the ocean.

Not when he'd seen her leave on that mission with Coulson, for what he knew would be the last time he would feel her eyes on him unhindered by repulsion, or hate.

He just couldn't.

"Ward, if you do this, who'll be there to catch me?"

His eyes filled with determination, Ward turned back to the panel, muting Fitz's shocked disbelief, and _her_ stoic dignity as she silenced herself and then Fitz, as if she was resigned to the pointlessness of the exercise.

His eyes flicking only briefly to the security camera, Ward turned back to them, to _her_.

Letting the two of them stay on the ship would have made it nearly impossible for Ward to save them. Locking themselves in the containment cell had been a stroke of genius, and an escape, without Ward having to compromise his cover.

Fitz had the Howling Commando radio, he'd seen it in his hand when he'd fried Garrett, they'd radio in. Skye was probably already tracking them.

He wasn't worried about their survival.

They would live. She would live.

She may not ever look at him without that purely English look of disdain, but she would be alive, and unharmed.

If Garrett ever even suspected, he had feelings for Simmons.

Well, he'd take care of it.

Exactly as he had all those years before.

He watched mutely as Fitz pounded on the door while she stood behind him her eye on his, as if memorizing every nuance of this moment of betrayal. For once he looked back, willing her to understand what he couldn't say out loud.

_Trust me._


End file.
